His apartment building came into view, a modest three-story complex that had seen better decades. Eric parked in his assigned spot and climbed the stairs to the second floor, unit 2-B.
Home. Or what passed for it.
Eric unlocked the door and stepped inside, immediately dropping his jacket on the couch. The apartment was small, a one-bedroom with a living area that flowed into a kitchenette. His PhD certificate hung on one wall, looking pretentious next to the secondhand furniture. A small desk in the corner held his laptop and a stack of books he kept meaning to read.
It wasn't much, but it was his.
Eric collapsed onto the couch, the exhaustion from the night finally catching up with him. He finished his coffee, set the cup on the side table, and stared at the ceiling.
'Okay,' he thought. 'Time to figure out what the hell is going on.'
He closed his eyes, concentrating, trying to recall exactly how the screen had appeared. It had just been there, suddenly, after the ringing sound. And then it had vanished when he'd wanted it to disappear.
'So maybe I just need to... want it back?'
Eric focused his thoughts, imagining the screen, willing it to appear.
Nothing.
He tried again, concentrating harder.
Still nothing.
'Maybe I need to say something? Like a command word?'
"System?" he said aloud, feeling ridiculous. "Debauchery System? Interface? Menu?"
Nothing happened. Eric felt like an idiot talking to his empty apartment.
'Think, dammit. How did it work before?'
He closed his eyes again, replaying the moment in the shower. He'd been standing there, staring at the text about unlocking the system, and then the interface had just... appeared. He hadn't done anything specific. It had just shown up.
'Wait. I was thinking about what it meant. Trying to understand it. And then it showed me the interface.'
Eric focused on that feeling, that desire to understand, to see what the system was offering.
And there it was.
The translucent blue screen materialized in the air before him, floating at eye level. Eric's breath caught.
"Holy shit," he whispered. "It's real. It's actually real."
The interface was exactly as he remembered it.
‐‐‐
[Debauchery Interface]
[Personal] [Status]
[Shop] [Quests]
[Partners] [Perks]
[Inventory]
‐‐‐
Eric stared at it, his analytical mind finally engaging properly. This wasn't a hallucination. It was too consistent, too stable. It appeared when he wanted it to and presumably would disappear the same way.
'Which means this is either incredibly advanced technology or something else entirely.'
He reached out, his hand passing through the [Personal] option. The screen flickered, then changed.
‐‐‐
[Personal]
Name: Eric Reid-Leveson
Age: 22
Height: 183cm
Weight: 75kg
Level: 1
Exp: 0%
‐‐‐
Eric studied the information with academic precision. Everything was accurate. His exact height and weight, his age, his full name. But it was the bottom two lines that caught his attention.
'Level one,' he thought. 'Like in a video game. And zero experience.'
He focused on the interface itself, willing it to go back. The screen flickered, returning to the main menu.
'Okay. So I can navigate this thing with intention. What else?'
He focused on [Status]. The screen changed again.
‐‐‐
[Status]
strength: 7
intelligence: 9
charm: 8
stamina: 8
‐‐‐
Eric analyzed the numbers with interest. His intelligence rating made sense. He'd always been smart, graduated early, earned his PhD young. Nine out of ten felt accurate, maybe even modest.
Charm at eight also tracked. He'd built his entire current career on being charming, on reading people and giving them what they wanted.
Stamina at eight was professional validation. Two years of this work had built his endurance to impressive levels. He could go for hours when necessary.
Strength at seven was probably fair. He worked out regularly, maintained his physique, but he wasn't a bodybuilder or athlete. Just fit enough to be attractive and functional.
'But what do these numbers mean?' he wondered. 'What can I do with them? Can they increase? Is that what leveling up does?'
He focused back on the main interface. The screen responded, returning to the menu.
[Shop] was next. Eric concentrated on it.
‐‐‐
[Shop]
Currently Unavailable
Unlocks at Level 5
‐‐‐
'Locked content,' Eric thought. 'So there's progression. I need to reach level five before I can access whatever's in the shop.'
He went back to the interface and focused on [Quests].
‐‐‐
[Quests]
Next Quest Available In: 00:30:00
‐‐‐
A countdown timer. Thirty minutes exactly. Ticking down in real time as he watched.
'Half an hour,' Eric thought, his pulse quickening. 'I'm going to get my first quest in thirty minutes.'
Back to the interface. [Partners] was next.
‐‐‐
[Partners]
Total: 0
Recent: None
‐‐‐
Eric frowned. "Zero? But I've been with a thousand women. That's how this thing activated."
'Unless...' A thought occurred to him. 'Maybe it only counts partners after the system unlocked. Everything before was just qualification. Now the real counting begins.'
It made a twisted kind of sense.
He checked [Perks] next.
‐‐‐
[Perks]
No Perks Acquired
‐‐‐
Empty, as expected. Presumably, perks were rewards for leveling up or completing quests.
Finally, [Inventory].
‐‐‐
[Inventory]
Empty
‐‐‐
Also bare. Eric wasn't surprised. He had no idea what would even go in an inventory for something called the Debauchery System.
'Items? Consumables? Equipment?' The video game logic suggested possibilities, but he had no frame of reference.
He focused back on the main interface one more time, studying the complete picture.
'So I have a system that tracks my stats, will give me quests, has a shop that unlocks at higher levels, and apparently counts my partners going forward,' Eric summarized mentally. 'But what's the point? What's the endgame here? What am I supposed to do with this?'
The system offered no answers. It just floated there, waiting, mysterious and full of promise.
Eric was so absorbed in his analysis that he almost missed the sound of footsteps in the hallway outside his apartment. Almost.
Then came the knock. Three sharp raps on his door.
Eric's stomach dropped. He knew that knock. He'd know it anywhere.
'Oh no.'
He checked his phone quickly. 10:17 AM. Saturday morning.
'The Sterling twins,' he realized with growing dread. 'Our Saturday outing. I completely forgot.'
Rafe and Sarah Sterling were his only real friends in Stardale. They'd met in his first year here, at some forgettable bar, and somehow the friendship had stuck despite Eric's lifestyle choices. Rafe was easygoing, perpetually amused by Eric's stories. Sarah was... different.
Sarah always knew. Eric had never figured out how, but she always knew when he'd been with a client. And she always had opinions about it.
'I smell like sex and expensive perfume,' Eric thought frantically. 'I'm wearing the same clothes from yesterday. There's no way I'm going to talk my way out of this one.'
The knock came again, more insistent this time.
Eric took a deep breath, dismissed the floating interface with a thought, and stood up. His body ached pleasantly, the kind of soreness that came from hours of vigorous activity. He probably looked exactly like what he was: a man who'd spent the night thoroughly exhausting himself.
'Here goes nothing.'
He walked to the door, grabbed the handle, and paused. Through the door, he could already imagine Sarah's expression. That look of disappointment mixed with exasperation that she'd perfected over two years of friendship.
Eric swallowed hard, steeling himself.
Then he opened the door.